


DC/Marvel- Heroes of Yesterday

by Joopite



Category: DCU, Marvel
Genre: Action, Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:35:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21565417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joopite/pseuds/Joopite
Summary: Twelve years ago, after a mission turned haywire, the Avengers were forced into hiding and vigilantism was outlawed once more. Now the only ones brace enough to wear masks are those with a death wish, as the TYGER special forces take out any crime fighters left in the world.But as international tensions rise, and a terrorist group known as the League of Assassins begin overthrowing governments and making their move on the rest of the world, one young vigilante, Batman, sets himself out on a mission; get together a group of other crime fighters, and find wherever the remnants of the Avengers are hiding in order to take down the League and halt the imminent world war on the horizon.
Kudos: 3





	DC/Marvel- Heroes of Yesterday

Nothing seemed fun anymore.

Bruce sat in a small blue room, the fluorescent lights above him giving off a faint hum- the only source of noise apart from the trickling rain outside. As Bruce sat at the edge of his seat and put his head against the window, he began watching two of the raindrops move down the window; he envisioned them racing, like he had always done on rainy days in the past. And each time before, it had always brought him a strange sense of enjoyment- to watch the raindrops 'compete' to getting to the bottom first. But he felt nothing. Nothing but sadness, grief, and anger.

The cup of piping hot chocolate in front of him had gone untouched- and not because of its heat. He hugged the jacket one of the officers had given him- a young one, early twenties at most. As he brought it past his shoulders more and around his body, he noticed a blood stain on the cuff of his white shirt- and it wasn't his own. Tears began welling in his eyes again, and he shut them tight, desperately pleading for the revelation that the whole night had been some sort of nightmare. 

But the revelation never came. 

From outside of the small blue room, Bruce heard rising voices. Footsteps, getting closer and closer to the wooden door. In the small window in the door, Bruce could see two police officers coming towards him- one was the man who gave him the jacket earlier, the other was a man ten or so years older. As they entered the room, Bruce quickly wiped away the newly produced tears that had begun to surface.

"Hey, Bruce." The young one gave him a warm smile. He had light brown hair, and small flecks of stubble to go along with it. His glasses sat in the breast pocket of his creased light blue shirt. If Bruce recalled correctly, he called himself Jim earlier. "How're you doing?" To this, Bruce had no response and looked down at the table. After a few moments of silence, the older man stepped forwards. Though his blonde hair and moustache seemed fairly well groomed and looked after, his face told a different tale; he was strained, tired, and seemed unsure of how to initiate conversation with the young boy. Finally, he spoke up. 

"Hello, Bruce. I'm Lieutenant Stacy, and you've already met Sergeant Gordon, I believe." After another short period of silence from the boy, Stacy continued. "We've spoken with your butler, and he'll be here shortly. As for the... as for the man who did this, we'll catch him, don't you worry. At this, Bruce raised his head once more. 

"Where were they?" Bruce asked after much difficulty. Jim and Lieutenant Stacy looked at each other, uneasy.

"Where were... who?" Gordon asked. Bruce looked at him in his eyes, and he immediately knew who the grief-stricken child was referring to. It didn't take long for Lieutenant Stacy to catch on, either.

"Look, Jim, I'm sorry to leave you, but I've got some errands to run and a mugger to find. And besides... I think you'd better handle this one." Stacy explained, patting him on the shoulder. 

"How brave of you, George." Gordon sighed as Stacy left the room. Jim sat down next to Bruce and gave him another warm smile. He was, as Bruce had noticed, very good at those. "Listen, son..." Gordon began, "things got complicated. Pretty complicated. Frankly... they couldn't be around anymore."

"Why not?" Bruce asked him, anger rising in his voice. "Why were they told to run away? Why are they the bad guys, now?" After a few moments of pause, Gordon sighed.

"Son... I'm not too sure myself." He briefly looked through the window in the door and grimaced. "Look, I'm gonna have to go for a couple of minutes, okay? But trust me, Bruce... I'm not leaving you alone here, okay? Just remember that." And with another warm smile, Jim stood up and walked out of the room. 

The tears returned again. Bruce looked out of the window, the rain now pouring down outside of the police station. But, even with the rain droplets covering the window, and the barrage of water creating a haze in the air, he could still make out a wall of graffiti on a building next to the police station. 

The graffiti depicted four figures- Tony Stark, Captain Steve Rogers, Spider-Man and the Black Widow. Below the four figures all standing proud was text that simply read "Fascists". This simple wall of graffiti caused the tears to fall even harder down Bruce's face.

If the Hell's Kitchen Incident hadn't happened, if the remaining Avengers hadn't have been forced into hiding and vigilantism hadn't had been made illegal once again... then maybe his parents would still be alive. 

With this thought in mind, young Bruce Wayne began crying himself to sleep.


End file.
